


First Times and Future Plans

by driventoraulinsanity (DarkDreamsOfHannigram)



Series: Frederick's Hidden Desires: Chilton/Reader [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDreamsOfHannigram/pseuds/driventoraulinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Background for my previous Chilton/reader fic. How you met, and your first time together. You realize this could be fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Times and Future Plans

You were doing research on the various private and public mental health facilities in the Mid-Atlantic area when you went to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane for the first time. It was one of the nicer facilities, despite its age. At least it wasn't infested with bedbugs and the staff seemed mostly competent.

Meeting the Director was something you'd been dreading. You'd heard stories about how he hit on anything with a pulse; he was a terrifically smarmy, self-important man named Dr. Frederick Chilton. You'd also heard he'd been attacked by a patient - actually had some organs removed in a grizzly parody of a surgery - and had later been shot in the face in a criminal act. You thought he must be a tough old bastard to survive something like that at least.

So when you finally had to stop putting off going to the BSH, and actually met him, he was not at all what you'd been expecting. He walked with a cane, albeit an ostentatious one that he most likely didn't need to use as much as he did, and he was younger than you'd envisioned; although the scar on his face had aged him, made his eyes more serious and hollower than you suspected they'd otherwise have been.

The creepy attempts at charm, however, were spot on.

"Are you in Baltimore long?" he asked over-confidently. "It can be quite a fun town if you have the right guide..."

"Yes...." you said, “I know, I live there.”

"Oh," he replied simply, and looked like he was about to crawl under his desk in embarrassment. You'd punctured his pick-up line like a balloon.

This was when you realized his false front had suffered too many blows in recent years, and decided it would be cruel of you not to let him off the hook.

"It's ok, Dr. Chilton. Can you show me the records I'd emailed you about?"

"Certainly," he said, softening a bit at your understanding tone of voice. One you suspected he didn't hear very much. "And please, call me Frederick."

He never quit, and you had to respect him a bit for his persistence, even if it was a bit ridiculous.

You spent the next few hours talking to him about the hospital staff, the problems that they'd encountered (which, as it turned out, all centered on the infamous case of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, still at large). Your respect at his survival skills grew; you'd heard few that crossed paths with Lecter came out alive. At the end of the day, you thought it would be interesting to hear what he had to say about things while he wasn't in this environment.

"Frederick...if that offer still stands to do something in town, I would take you up on it."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if this was not a statement he was even remotely prepared for. Finally his eyes focused and he stammered out, "Um, yes, ok. I uhh…sure. That sounds great."

Later that night, seeing him in a different context, it was even clearer that his false charm and facade of control was concealing a seething volcano of unfulfilled desires. Men like that could be...fun. Under the right direction and firm hand, of course.

You closed the bar down, having the time of your life watching him twist and squirm as you flirted with him. Most of his interactions with women in the last several years hadn't gotten past his opening lines, and he realized he had no idea what to do next.

So, right before the cab you'd called for yourself pulled up, you backed him against the nearest wall and kissed him hard. He initially didn't know what to do with his hands, so you helpfully put them on your waist. He finally relaxed enough to kiss you back, and it turned out there was hope for him after all.

You left him breathless, but...smiling.

He managed to wait two days to call you to ask you out again.

. . . . .

You'd been carrying on this way for a few weeks; increasingly desperate make-out sessions in secluded restaurant booths, in dark doorways. You were impressed that he kept pursuing you, but never pushed for more, despite clearly wanting it. One night, without letting on beforehand, you pulled him into your cab with you at the last moment, and the look of shock on his face made you want him even more.

You barely made it inside your apartment before loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He managed to get his jacket off before you pulled him down with you onto the couch by his lapels, mouths never leaving each other’s.

He reached around your back, and held you closely, starting to edge the zipper of your dress downwards.

"Is this ok?" he breathed into your ear.

"Yes, Frederick." You put your fingers through his hair. "Why else do you think I brought you home?"

He melted against you, like he had been holding his breath for years. You finished the job of taking off his shirt, and he hesitated. You remembered about the scar, and gently eased him back, trailing your fingers down his abdomen, over the old wound. He seemed reassured by this simple gesture, and the intake of breath when you ran your hand lightly over the front of his pants went straight through you.

At this point, you began to realize that his behavior had certainly not been overcompensation for anything inadequate, as it were.

You also noticed that he was touching you and kissing you like a starving man. He was scarcely able to contain himself. If this evening was going to be any fun for you, it would be wise to take things fast, before taking them slow. Getting up, you took both of his hands, and pulled him, unsteady, to his feet, before practically dragging him into the bedroom.

You let your dress fall from your shoulders, as you took his zipper down. You were a having trouble holding back a snort of laughter as you saw his underwear; they were sexy, in a sleazy sort of way, but tight black bikini briefs were not what you were expecting. However, you realized that those were certainly more practical than boxer shorts, which would be too loose and inadequate to contain what was obviously an enormous cock.

Pants and shoes and socks came off, and you laid him back on the bed. Starting with his neck, you kissed your way down his body, pausing to suck on a nipple, your hand going down to place your palm against his impressive length. He gripped the sheets, and put his head back.

"Sit up a little," you said darkly. "I want you to be able to watch."

He did as he was told, pulling himself up as fast as he could manage while shaking so hard. In one swift motion, the black underwear were gone, and his fully hard cock was freed; You wondered how big your eyes got when you finally saw him. Believing actions would speak louder than words at a time like this, you moved to press the flat of your tongue against the thick head, already leaking a little.

"Oh fuck yess..." he sighed. The fact that he sounded equal parts lustful and relieved nearly made you giggle, but instead you ran your tongue up and down the length of him, and he watched as you looked him straight in the eyes as you swallowed down as much of him as you could.

You were right in thinking that this would be over relatively quickly, as he was unable to maintain your gaze. He threw his head back, uncontrollably bucking his hips. You let him use the back of your throat with abandon, and watching and feeling him lose control was almost a religious experience. But after only a couple of minutes, you herd him gasping and whimpering, as he started to cum, hot and thick in the back of your mouth.

As soon as he regained the ability to speak, he tried to apologize for not lasting very long, but you told him you thought that might happen, and after all...you suspected he might be ready to go again relatively soon, and that he would be less tense.

As it turned out, you were right. A few minutes of deep kissing later, and you could feel him frantically trying to take off the rest of your remaining clothes, and growing hard against your thigh.

Before he managed to get your panties off, he pressed two of his long fingers inside of you, and whined at how wet he found you, knowing it was sucking his cock that made you that way.

You slid up and down on his hand, alternating between letting him penetrate you, and circling your clit. Finally, he regained enough wherewithal to slip the soaked things off of you, and you threw your leg over his. He reached down to rub his cock up and down your wetness, and finally you thrust your hips forward, encouraging him to enter you at last.

While before he had started off careful and hesitant, you wanted him to let go, so you ran your hand down from his back, to his ass, feeling the muscles flexing, and pushed him into you, hard.

The sounds he made were wonderful as he thrust inside you, over and over; the position didn’t quite allow the full length of him to enter you, but it did cause you to feel the head of his cock stretching you; and you were able to kiss him continuously.

Although you didn’t want to break the contact with your mouths, you wanted to feel him all the way, so you used the leverage of your leg to push him on his back. Now it was your turn to gasp and moan as you rode him, grinding yourself against his pubic bone. Leaning forward as your orgasm began to hit you, he put both hands on your ass, and watched, with fascinated reverence, as you began to cum.

It seemed to last a long time, and when it was finally over, you collapsed against his chest, as he was still hard inside of you, not moving.

“Can I keep going? Is it all right?” he whispered.

Now you really did laugh out loud, and said, “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”

You let him slip out of you, and lay next to him, pulling him by the shoulder to cover you. He entered you again, all the way, and despite being oversensitive, you began to feel the heat pooling between your legs almost immediately once again. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he fucked you, at first with measured finesse, then more and more erratically. You reached down between your bodies to touch yourself, and he whimpered, “Yes, please, make yourself cum again, I want to feel you…”

The more his rhythm faltered, the more you knew he was close, and you eased up touching yourself just long enough to bring yourself to the edge. When he started to gasp and moan your name, you managed to get out one command – “Harder” - as you lost the ability to speak.

. . . . .

Afterwards, as he lay there, almost unconscious, you reflected on several things. One, that Dr. Chilton was good at taking instructions. Two, that you had him wrapped around your finger in relatively short order. And three, that, despite likely not having a lot of practice in recent years, he was excellent at everything you’d done with him. You wondered what dark secrets he had in his mind, what fetishes and things he’d never had the chance to do, that he desperately wanted. It would be lovely finding out.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have several more ideas for subsequent fun times.


End file.
